


Regard for Human Frailty

by dancewithme19



Category: Glee, Queer as Folk (US)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 11:04:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12556044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancewithme19/pseuds/dancewithme19
Summary: When Blaine agreed to spend his Friday evening with Sebastian on Liberty Avenue, this was not what he envisioned. But then, things tended to get turned upside down when Brian Kinney was involved.





	Regard for Human Frailty

“Hey, Blaine.”  
  
Blaine didn’t have to look up to know who had slid into the chair across from him. There was only one person who said his name like that, as if it were a come-on. He still couldn’t decide whether or not he liked it. He closed his book about a beat too late to be truly polite and met Sebastian’s eyes, a perfunctory smile on his lips. Sebastian wasn’t deterred. If anything, his eyes just seemed to twinkle harder.  
  
“Sebastian.”  
  
“I hope you aren’t doing homework on a Friday afternoon,” said Sebastian, nodding at his book. “I know we’re in Pittsburgh, but surely Blaine Anderson can find something more interesting to do with his time.”  
  
His gaze was steady, piercing in a way that didn’t seem to match the amused twist of his lips. Blaine looked away.  
  
“I have an audition tomorrow - the Gay and Lesbian Center is casting for a gender-blind production of _West Side Story_ , so I thought I should bone up on the source material.”  
  
He held up his book, an annotated version of _Romeo and Juliet_ , in illustration. He half-expected Sebastian to sneer - at the GLC, at the romance of it all, at the very concept of community theater, who knew - but instead his smirk widened to an actual, genuine grin.  
  
“If they don’t cast you as Tony the second you walk in the door, they deserve to be shot.”  
  
“That’s a tad extreme, don’t you think?”  
  
“I thought crime against musical theater was a queer capital offense.”  
  
Blaine snorted, shaking his head. He bit his lip against a smile that wanted to be bigger than he could really make sense of. Maybe it had to do with the way Sebastian’s eyes lit up at Blaine’s amusement.  
  
“I don’t know. It’s not like singing with the Warblers, I’ll be competing against performers with a lot more experience than me.”  
  
“And not one of them managed to make it out of Pittsburgh.” There was that sneer Blaine had been anticipating. “How big a threat could they be? Trust me, superstar, you’ve got this in the bag.”  
  
He winked, and it should have been cheesy. Blaine found himself charmed, instead. A flush started to crawl up his neck.  
  
“Thanks,” he managed before ducking his head.  
  
Sebastian cleared his throat.  
  
“So, what do you say we do something tonight, take your mind off things?”  
  
His tone was suddenly and blatantly smarmy. Blaine’s hackles went up. His tongue was ready with a sharp retort, but then he caught the expression on Sebastian’s face and was pulled up short. Sebastian was…hopeful. Blaine wasn’t sure if Sebastian even realized what was showing through. It was the first time in the month since Sebastian had transferred to Dalton that he’d given Blaine any reason to think he might want more from him than a conquest.  
  
“What did you have in mind?” Blaine asked cautiously.  
  
“Well, in a show of gratitude for showing me the ropes at Dalton, I thought I could show you around Liberty Avenue.”  
  
It was cute that he meant it. Not only that, he thought Blaine would be impressed.  
  
Sebastian had no idea what he’d gotten himself into.  
  
“Okay,” said Blaine, doing his best to keep his tone neutral. Sebastian’s answering smirk was so smug it was almost painful not to roll his eyes.  
  
This could be fun.  
  
&&&&&  
  
Blaine hurried down the sidewalk, dodging twinks and drag queens and bears - oh my - in an effort to be at least almost on time. Sebastian was, as a rule, both punctual and impatient, and Blaine really hated to be rude. He found Sebastian waiting for him on the sidewalk in front of Woody’s. It wasn’t cold, not like it would be in about a month, but there was an early autumn bite in the air that called for something more substantial than the flimsy black t-shirt Sebastian was wearing. Blaine was surprised, honestly - he would have pegged Sebastian as more the popped-collar polo type - but couldn’t help but admire the way it pulled over his shoulders and chest. Which was probably the point. The Dalton uniform didn’t do much to flatter the long lines of his body.  
  
Sebastian’s eyes were darting eagerly over the crowd, in sharp contrast with the careful nonchalance of his posture. He spotted Blaine and grinned, waving the greeting he was too far away to call out. He looked Blaine over as he approached, appreciation as unabashed as ever. His eyes on Blaine’s body felt like heat.  
  
“You didn’t have to wait for me out here,” said Blaine, before Sebastian had a chance to say what he’d been thinking.  
  
“I figured you’d need this.”  
  
Sebastian pulled a truly dreadful fake ID from his pocket and held it out to Blaine with a self-satisfied smirk. The guy in the photo had to be at least 35.  
  
“Oh, that’s - that’s very kind of you - to go to the trouble, I mean - but I’ve got my own.”  
  
Blaine pulled out his own ID with a smile that he hoped was more apologetic than amused. Sebastian examined it. His eyes went wide.  
  
“You’ve been holding out on me, Anderson.”  
  
“My brother gave it to me for my 16th birthday. He’s got connections.”  
  
Sebastian pocketed his fake and jerked his head in the direction of the front entrance. He let Blaine lead the way up the stairs. When Blaine turned to engage him in conversation, Sebastian didn’t even bother to pretend he wasn’t staring in apparent fascination at Blaine’s ass.  
  
“I like your pants,” he drawled. “Red is your color.”  
  
“Um. Thank you?”  
  
Sebastian’s gaze shifted to Blaine’s face. If anything, his grin only widened. He stepped up to Blaine’s stair, close enough that Blaine had to tip his head back to hold his gaze.  
  
“That blushing virgin thing you’ve got going on? Super hot. Even if it is just an act.”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“I’m not judging, obviously. I mean, it works for you.”  
  
Blaine should probably have felt insulted at the insinuation, but, honestly, Sebastian looked more impressed than anything. Blaine rolled his eyes.  
  
“You have the wrong idea. My brother is the gay bar superstar, not me.”  
  
Sebastian smirked.  
  
“Guess we’ll have to change that, then.”  
  
He slipped a guiding hand around Blaine’s waist to the small of his back. Something visceral thrilled at feeling the breadth of Sebastian’s palm so close to his skin. Blaine had to fight off a shiver.  
  
The bouncer didn’t blink an eye at even Sebastian’s terrible fake, not that Blaine was surprised. He’d found that being young and pretty went a long way on Liberty Avenue.  
  
It was a decent crowd for a Friday night, mostly guys pre-gaming on cheap liquor before the clubs opened. The stage was empty, ready for the drag show Blaine knew probably wouldn’t start until at least 11 PM. Blaine took a cursory glance, but didn’t actually expect to see anyone he knew. If they were here, they were probably playing pool in the back, or maybe making arrangements for an alleyway blowjob. Or both. Probably both.  
  
Sebastian strode through the crowd straight for the bar, leaving Blaine to follow in his wake. He secured them a couple of stools and flagged down the harried bartender with the kind of confidence that Blaine could never quite muster. He always felt bad, cutting in front of people who’d been waiting longer.  
  
“Gin and tonic,” Sebastian ordered. “And whatever my friend here is drinking.”  
  
“Same for me.” Blaine usually ordered beer, but hey - when in France, right?  
  
Sebastian nodded his approval and pulled out his card. “Keep my tab open,” he said as he handed it over.  
  
The bartender took it with a clipped, “You got it,” and turned to start their order.  
  
“Thank you,” said Blaine, turning to Sebastian. “That’s really nice of you, but you don’t have to pay for my drinks.”  
  
“I invited you out, didn’t I?”  
  
“Well, yeah, but it’s not like we’re on a date or something.”  
  
“It’s not entirely selfless.” Sebastian leaned closer, as if imparting a secret. “Let’s just say I have a feeling I’m really going to like drunk Blaine.”  
  
Blaine laughed, mostly out of shock at his audacity. It seemed to please Sebastian to no end. Blaine didn’t know what to say to that. He felt, as he often did around Sebastian, at a loss for words. He changed the subject.  
  
“You know, I have to say, I expected you to order something more sophisticated than a gin and tonic.”  
  
“What, like a vodka martini? Shaken, not stirred?”  
  
His tone might have been sardonic, but his expression was delighted. Of course he liked the idea of being compared to James Bond.  
  
“You did order a shot of Courvoisier in your coffee. In a café in Pennsylvania. While wearing your school uniform.”  
  
Sebastian shrugged.  
  
“It would have worked in Paris.”  
  
“So you mentioned.”  
  
“Well, what can I say? Tonight I was in the mood for something sweet and classy.”  
  
He tweaked Blaine’s bow tie, just in case the laser sharp intent of his gaze wasn’t enough to convey his meaning. Blaine was touched, but also kind of wanted to roll his eyes. Spending time with Sebastian was going to give him whiplash.  
  
The bartender brought them their drinks, setting them down so hurriedly that they sloshed over the edge. Sebastian huffed a sigh and made a show of wiping the edge of his glass with a cocktail napkin. Blaine did the same, but without the theatrics. He took his drink in hand, but something stopped him from bringing it to his lips.  
  
“Sebastian,” he said. Or blurted, really. He had to say it now - probably should have said it earlier. If he waited until he found the right words, he’d never say it at all. “I think you should know -  I mean, I’m not - I don’t do casual sex. And it seems like you only do casual sex. So - ”  
  
“ - it seems we’re at an impasse.” Sebastian didn’t look - well, like anything. His face was carefully neutral. He grinned, but it looked like work. “Don’t worry, your virtue is safe with me. Until you tell me you don’t want it to be.”  
  
Blaine laughed.  
  
“Awfully confident, aren’t we?”  
  
“Always. But don’t worry, Anderson. I’m starting to realize that your ass might actually be the least interesting thing about you.”  
  
“I’ll take that as the compliment I’m sure you meant it to be.”  
  
“Your ass is a work of art, Blaine. Of course it’s a compliment.”  
  
Blaine was about as red-faced as he could get, but he didn’t really care. The part of him that had always enjoyed Sebastian’s open admiration was starting to win. He raised his glass and looked Sebastian dead in the eye.  
  
“To what’s shaping up to be an interesting night.”  
  
Sebastian raised his glass and inclined his head.  
  
“An interesting night.”  
  
Blaine had taken a sip of his drink and was about to set it back on its napkin when he heard a very familiar voice behind him.  
  
“Blaine? I thought that was you. Does your brother know you’re here?”  
  
Blaine turned and forced a smile. Michael was leaning against the bar, body about three-beers loose. His expression was open and friendly, but Blaine felt a twinge of resentment nonetheless.  
  
“I didn’t realize I needed his permission.”  
  
“He was just saying he hadn’t seen you all week. I bet he’d be thrilled if you came over and said hello.”  
  
“That’s okay. I wouldn’t want to cramp his style.”  
  
“We’re just hanging out.”  
  
Michael was wheedling with his eyes, which was an unfair tactic, but one that Blaine knew very well. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his brother, just - well, he could predict how Sebastian was going to react, and as much as he’d enjoyed the thought this afternoon, he found himself wanting to keep Sebastian’s attention to himself. Blaine opened his mouth to say something, hopefully, that would get Michael to back off, when Michael’s gaze landed over his shoulder. On Sebastian, of course, who was watching their exchange with unbridled interest. Michael grinned.  
  
“Blaine Anderson, are you here with a boy?”  
  
Blaine didn’t want to answer that, so he didn’t.  
  
“Michael, this is Sebastian. We go to school together. Sebastian, Michael. My brother’s best friend.”  
  
Sebastian held out a hand to shake. He seemed to be going for a charming smile, but he was much too amused to make it work.  
  
“Nice to meet you,” he said.  
  
“Likewise.”  
  
Michael shook his hand. Sebastian’s eyes traveled down his body and up again, a move that made Blaine prickle in spite of himself. Michael just raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Yeah, not gonna happen. I’m not into jailbait.”  
  
Sebastian put his hands up in an unconvincing show of innocence.  
  
“Can’t blame a guy for looking.”  
  
Michael did look pretty good tonight. His sense of style wasn’t the greatest, but he did at least know how to show off his body. Tonight’s ensemble - a pair of jeans and a navy blue Captain Astro t-shirt - made his shoulders look broader than they were and nipped in his slender waist. Blaine would probably appreciate it more if Michael weren’t like a brother to him.  
  
Speaking of -  
  
“Hey, Blainey.”  
  
He should have known - it was like he’d implanted a tracking device, the way Brian always seemed to know where Michael was.  
  
Brian always made an entrance, whether or not he intended to. He just had that kind of presence. The second he walked into a room, everything and everyone else faded to background noise. Tonight was no different. The three of them turned to him like sunflowers turning to the sun. Michael’s face lit up. Sebastian looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. Blaine tried and failed to avoid Brian’s probing eyes.  
  
“Hey, Brian.”  
  
“I thought you had a big audition tomorrow,” he drawled, slinging an arm around Blaine’s shoulders. Blaine almost shrugged him off. His sarcasm was not appreciated.  
  
“It’s not until 2 PM.”  
  
“Ah. Plenty of time to nurse a hangover.”  
  
“I’m not planning to drink enough to get hungover in the first place.”  
  
Brian guffawed. Blaine could smell the whiskey on his breath.  
  
“Well then, that had better be your last, because you’re an even bigger lightweight than Mikey was at fourteen.”  
  
“Hey!” said Michael indignantly.  
  
Blaine ignored him in favor of glaring at his brother.  
  
“You done now?”  
  
“Not remotely.” Brian turned to Sebastian, as if just registering his presence. “Who the fuck is this?”  
  
Blaine refrained from hiding his head in his hands at Brian’s rudeness. He cleared his throat.  
  
“Brian, this is Sebastian. Smythe. I’ve told you about him, right?”  
  
Brian smirked. His gaze was eagle-sharp as he looked Sebastian over.  
  
“Right.”  
  
“Sebastian, this is - ”  
  
“ - Brian Kinney,” breathed Sebastian. He was wide-eyed and hanging onto the last of his cool by a thread. It was actually kind of adorable. Like watching a five-year-old meet Batman. Or Michael, the year Stan Lee came to Pittsburgh Comic Con.  
  
Brian looked pleased.  
  
“My reputation precedes me.”  
  
He looked Sebastian over with renewed interest. Blaine’s heart sank. He was pretty sure his brother wouldn’t have Michael’s qualms with the whole underage thing. He definitely should have considered that. Sebastian puffed up under the attention, regaining most of the self-possession he’d lost when Brian entered his orbit.  
  
“You’re kind of a legend around here,” he said.  
  
Brian raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Kind of?”  
  
“Don’t answer that,” snapped Michael. “The last thing his ego needs is a boost.”  
  
“Are you here with the guys?” asked Blaine quickly, attempting to ease the tension he could feel rising around them like high tide.  
  
Michael nodded with the kind of enthusiasm that stemmed from relief. “They’re playing a round of pool. You should come say hi!”  
  
Blaine raised his eyebrows.  
  
“Emmett is playing pool?”  
  
“Oh, you know Emmett,” drawled Brian. “He’s always had a thing for sinking balls in his hole.”  
  
Blaine groaned. Michael laughed. Sebastian looked as if Christmas had come early.  
  
Blaine downed the rest of his drink and looked expectantly at Sebastian. Sebastian nodded, more than game. Michael gathered the round of drinks he’d ordered and led them back to the pool table where he’d left his friends. Brian slung an arm around Michael’s shoulders and murmured something to him that made him snicker. One of the bottles he was balancing tipped and sloshed a drip of beer down the side. He didn’t seem to notice.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me your brother was _Brian Kinney_?” muttered Sebastian. He’d ducked his head so close Blaine could feel his breath on his skin.  
  
“I thought it would be more fun this way.”  
  
Blaine mustered what he thought was a passable smirk. It was true, after all. He’d thought he would enjoy seeing Sebastian taken down a peg, thought it might even make him respect Blaine enough to stop looking at him as if he were prey. He hadn’t anticipated feeling like this. The idea of Sebastian staring at Brian all night with that starry look in his eyes, or, worse, going off to blow him in some alley - it made him feel sick.  
  
Blaine was used to it. Or at least he should have been. Sometimes it felt as if his brothers had been specifically designed to make him feel inadequate. He loved them, he did, but they both shone with such bright light that no one else stood a chance of being seen when they were around.  
  
Sebastian had made him feel seen, for better or worse. He already missed that. He should have known better.  
  
Emmett caught sight of them before Sebastian had a chance to reply.  
  
“Blaine!” he called, flinging his arms open. “I haven’t seen you in forever! Come on, come to mama.”  
  
He pulled Blaine into a hug so tight he almost cracked a rib, then looked Sebastian over with an expert eye.  
  
“Who’s the cutie?” he asked, eyes lingering on Sebastian’s biceps. Sebastian smirked, the quirk of his lips particularly smug.  
  
“Sebastian Smythe,” he said, offering a hand to shake with a charming smile. “I go to Dalton with Blaine.”  
  
Emmett shot a look at Blaine, impressed.  
  
“Your boy’s got manners.”  
  
“He’s not ‘my boy.’”  
  
Emmett raised his eyebrows, but returned his attention to Sebastian. He gripped Sebastian’s hand with what Blaine knew was deceptive strength.  
  
“Emmett Honeycutt. Of the Hazelhurst Honeycutts,” he drawled. His impression of an upper crust accent was undercut by the concoction of neon pleather and mesh he’d chosen for the evening. Not the most outrageous outfit Blaine had seen him in, but not one that screamed class.  
  
Sebastian seemed to be at a loss for what to make of him.  
  
Ted followed in Emmett’s wake, greeting Blaine with a hug and Sebastian with a handshake. He was, as usual, dressed in a way that begged to be forgotten. It was as if he knew he was a supporting character in someone else’s story. His smile was warm, though, and Blaine could appreciate that even if Sebastian had clearly dismissed him the moment he laid eyes on that ill-fitting beige polo.  
  
After the flurry of greetings, Ted and Emmett went back to their game of pool, such as it was. Emmett kept forgetting which balls he was supposed to be aiming for, and Ted took such an excruciatingly long time to line up his shots that Blaine honestly couldn’t blame him. Blaine itched to snatch the cue from his hands and just do it himself.  
  
Brian seemed to be feeling the same way - while Blaine was far too polite to say anything, Brian was in full-on heckle mode.  
  
“For fuck’s sake, Theodore, if I didn’t think you’d like it so much I’d shove that fucking cue up your ass.”  
  
“Hey, so you never told me how that presentation went,” said Blaine quickly, knowing from experience that the only hope of curbing Brian’s acid tongue was to distract him. “You know, the one you were stressing about all weekend.”  
  
The way Brian looked at him, it was as if he’d suggested that Brian had spent the weekend perfecting his cunnilingus technique.  
  
“Oh, that. I had him eating out of the palm of my hand. Among other things.”  
  
His grin was just about as subtle as Brian ever managed to be. Which was to say, not at all. Michael snorted, and Brian shot him a look that Blaine couldn’t read.  
  
“So you landed the account, then?”  
  
“You know me, Blainey. I always land my man.”  
  
Blaine wanted to snap, _Don’t call me that_ , the way he would if it were Cooper, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He rolled his eyes.  
  
“Sorry. I should have known better than to question your prowess.”  
  
“Obviously.”  
  
“What line of work are you in?” asked Sebastian.  
  
“Advertising.”  
  
“Brian can sell anything,” added Michael.  
  
“Anything I would have seen?”  
  
Brian shot Blaine a wicked grin.  
  
“‘Free credit rating today’?” he offered innocently.  
  
“Dot com,” added Ted from behind his cue.  
  
“Slash savings!” trilled Emmett.  
  
Blaine clenched his jaw against annoyance that he knew was irrational. Those stupid commercials were the bane of his existence, all the more so because everyone knew it.  
  
For the first time since meeting Brian, Sebastian looked less than impressed.  
  
“You mean those cheesy commercials with the hot guy pointing all over the place?”  
  
Blaine laughed. He couldn’t help it. Brian looked affronted. He smiled the kind of smile that wasn’t really a smile at all.  
  
“You remember them, don’t you?”  
  
“I remember the hot guy.”  
  
Michael grinned.  
  
“Well look at that, Brian, the kid figured out your trademark advertising strategy.”  
  
“It always works.”  
  
Michael glanced at Blaine. He must have registered Blaine’s expression, because he hastily changed the subject.  
  
“So, Sebastian, are you a Warbler too?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Brian turned the full force of his attention to Sebastian. He raised an eyebrow.  
  
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for the choir boy type.”  
  
Sebastian wasn’t cowed. On the contrary, he straightened his back and smiled sharply.  
  
“What can I say? The Warblers are like rock stars.”  
  
“Of course they are, with Blaine as their front man,” Brian shot back easily.  
  
He expected Sebastian to bristle, Blaine could tell. He’d pegged Sebastian as some sort of Eve Harrington, out to seduce Blaine and steal his solos. He understood why - had seen him the same way only hours before - but he found himself bristling on Sebastian’s behalf. Sebastian’s smile didn’t slip.  
  
“Besides,” he said. “I’ve always had a thing for the ‘choir boy type.’”  
  
Sebastian wasn’t looking at Blaine. Blaine knew that, even though he himself was very carefully not looking at Sebastian. It didn’t feel that way.  
  
“Sebastian was our only new member this year,” said Blaine, knowing better than to let that line of conversation go any further.  
  
Sebastian looked at him. He smiled ruefully, letting him get away with it.  
  
“Yeah,” he said. “And I have the canary to prove it.”  
  
“Domingo, this year. Sadly, Pavarotti died in our last recruit’s care.”  
  
Ted looked up from his careful contemplation of the pool table.  
  
“What’s this about Pavarotti?”  
  
“The canary, not the singer,” Blaine clarified.  
  
“You were invited to the funeral, don’t you remember?” said Michael.  
  
Brian hid his amusement very poorly behind his hand. Blaine refrained from reminding him that he was the only one of them who’d actually come.  
  
“That’s right,” said Ted dryly. “I would have gone, but I had a birthday party to attend. You know, for my cousin’s hamster, Zelda. ”  
  
He took his shot, finally. It missed.  
  
“Are you joining Blaine at _West Side Story_ auditions tomorrow?” asked Emmett, bumping Sebastian with his hip as moved around the table to line up his shot.  
  
“Definitely,” said Sebastian, to Blaine’s surprise. “It might be fun, playing Riff to Blaine’s Tony.”  
  
“Someone’s confident,” commented Brian mildly.  
  
Sebastian shrugged.  
  
“I tend to get what I want.”  
  
“Do you even have an audition song?” asked Blaine.  
  
Sebastian smirked.  
  
“I’ve always got something up my sleeve.”  
  
“Care to test it out?”  
  
Sebastian frowned. The wrinkle it formed in his brow was too cute for Blaine to ignore. Sebastian looked around, as if he expected the Warblers to pop out from under the tables.  
  
“Here?”  
  
“They do have a stage. And I know for a fact that there’s a karaoke machine and a keyboard stashed behind the bar.”  
  
Blaine had a knack for knowing these things, in fact.  
  
Brian groaned theatrically.  
  
“You’re so pathetic, Blainey. Why do you always do this?”  
  
Blaine shoved his shoulder. Sebastian grinned.  
  
“Lead the way,” he said.  
  
It was the work of minutes to charm the bartender into setting up the karaoke machine and turning on the stage lights. There were mixed reactions amongst the other patrons, but Blaine was confident that they could win them over.  
  
Sebastian kicked things off with a little One Direction. He oozed stage presence, to the point where it was hard to even notice that there was only one of him. Not that that stopped Blaine from semi-consciously humming harmony on the chorus. The lyrics to “Live While We’re Young” were perhaps a tad innocent for Sebastian’s rakish persona, but he made them work for him anyway. It was a great audition song for Sebastian - just maybe more for a Sectionals solo than for _West Side Story_.  
  
“Noted,” said Sebastian when Blaine told him as much. “Less boy band, more Sondheim.”  
  
Blaine hopped up on stage next, and, following Sebastian’s theme, sang a crowd-pleasing rendition of “Last Friday Night.” Even Brian couldn’t help but mouth along to the chorus. Michael was the only other person who noticed.  
  
The way Sebastian looked at him as he took his bow, it was as if he was the only person in the room he wanted to see. It eased a tension in Blaine he didn’t even realize he’d felt.  
  
“Flawless as usual,” he murmured when Blaine rejoined the group. He handed Blaine a fresh drink and lifted his own in a toast, winking in the face of Blaine’s surprise. He must have slipped off to the bar while Blaine was browsing the catalogue. Blaine drank up without comment. He wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted Sebastian to see the smile playing at his lips.  
  
Emmett got up on stage next, abandoning Ted to murder some Aretha. He nailed just about everything but the actual vocals, and the crowd ate it up. He left the stage waving like a queen to her royal subjects.  
  
“You’re next!” he said, poking Brian in the chest.  
  
Brian didn’t respond, but his smile said, “Go fuck yourself.”  
  
“I think they have The Cure,” said Blaine, smiling winningly.  
  
“I’d rather eat twat.”  
  
“Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll go up with you.”  
  
“I think you have me confused with Cooper.”  
  
Blaine dropped it. Brian had known that would make him drop it.  
  
“Who’s Cooper?” asked Sebastian.  
  
“My brother,” said Blaine shortly.  
  
Sebastian raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. Clearly, he sensed that there was a story.  
  
They sat through a round of butchered pop diva hits, using their next round of drinks as anesthetic. Blaine was starting to move past tipsy and into full-on drunk, and it was making him feel reckless. When Sebastian looked at him, he didn’t look away. When Sebastian’s body moved close to his, he let himself enjoy it. When the thought suddenly came to him that, actually, the thing he really wanted to do right now, more than anything in the world, was to sing a duet with Sebastian, he said so.  
  
Sebastian looked pleased, but also cautious. Blaine wasn’t feeling cautious. Not right now.  
  
“What do you want to sing?” asked Sebastian.  
  
“Surprise me.”  
  
Sebastian grinned.  
  
Blaine had fully expected Sebastian to choose “S and M” or something, so he laughed when he heard the intro to Wham!’s “I’m Your Man.” He had to admit, Sebastian had done exactly as he’d asked.  
  
Blaine nodded for Sebastian to take the first line.  
  
“ _Call me good, call be bad,_  
_Call me anything you want to, baby_ ”  
  
They traded off from there, taking solo lines and improvising harmonies by turns. It was easy, and it was fun, and they were bouncing more than dancing, but it didn’t matter, because it was fun. Sebastian was fun. And he liked Wham!.  
  
“ _If you’re gonna do it, do it right,_  
_Right, do it with me_ ”  
  
This might be the best night Blaine had ever had at Woody’s.  
  
“ _If you want me, I’m your man_ ”  
  
The place erupted in enthusiastic applause as the music faded out. Sebastian slipped a hand to the small of Blaine’s back as they took their bows. The tips of his fingers rested on Blaine’s belt. Rather than letting go, he hooked them into Blaine’s belt loops as they made their way back to their group through what had turned into a sea of well-wishers.  
  
The evening’s MC came out on stage and announced that they had been the last performers of the evening, as the drag show was about to start. It was sad, realizing that. Blaine didn’t want to be sad. Not that drag wasn’t awesome in its own way, but Blaine could live on that stage. He wanted to.  
  
He said so.  
  
“You should,” said Sebastian, and he was so sincere that Blaine thought he might actually want to throw himself at him right then and there.  
  
Brian snorted.  
  
“Christ, Blainey, just put the guy out of his fucking misery and let him pop your cherry already.”  
  
If that wasn’t enough to sober him up, nothing would be. Sebastian’s touch felt suddenly overwhelming. Blaine pulled away, the heat of embarrassment warming the places that were cold in his absence.  
  
“Brian!” scolded Michael, hitting him in the arm.  
  
“What? He’s about to hump Blaine’s leg. The least he could do is throw the guy a bone.”  
  
Brian laughed at his own joke, but he was the only one who did.  
  
“They’re friends, Brian.”  
  
“So?”  
  
“So, it’s the most important rule of gay etiquette, isn’t it? You don’t fuck your friends.”  
  
The silence that followed may have been even more uncomfortable, if that was possible.  
  
“Okay!” said Emmett loudly, clapping his hands. “So, who’s up for Babylon?”  
  
They all were, as it turned out. Suddenly, Blaine couldn’t wait to get as far away from Woody’s as he could. He still hadn’t managed to look Sebastian in the eye.  
  
Sebastian went to close out his tab while the rest of them gathered their outer layers and went outside to wait for him. Brian’s eye wandered to a cute guy at the bar who appeared to be closer to Blaine’s age than his own, but he didn’t follow through. Emmett sidled up to Blaine and linked their arms as they walked out the door.  
  
“I think he might really like you,” he said, jerking his head in Sebastian’s general direction. The others didn’t seem to be paying them any attention.  
  
Blaine smiled, but it was brittle.  
  
“He’s been hitting on me since practically the moment we met. I’d say he’s been pretty clear about what he wants.”  
  
“I don’t know, from where I’m standing, it looks like he wants more than just your perky behind.”  
  
Emmett detangled their arms to give said behind a swat. Blaine yelped, and he would have replied, but Sebastian appeared suddenly by his side.  
  
“I’ll leave you boys to it,” said Emmett with a little wave. He sashayed up to Ted and threw an arm around his shoulders.  
  
“I have to hand it to him,” said Sebastian. “He may have the fashion sense of a low-rent call boy on Pride weekend, but the guy’s got balls.”  
  
Blaine couldn’t disagree with that. Not even the part about his fashion sense, because Blaine had maybe had secret, shameful thoughts of a similar nature.  
  
“Emmett’s the best.”  
  
The silence that fell between them was awkward. That had literally never happened before. Blaine felt a sudden, urgent need to break it.  
  
“About what Brian said back there - you shouldn’t take it personally. It wasn’t about you.”  
  
Sebastian pursed his lips, biting something back.  
  
“What was it about, then?”  
  
“Brian is of the opinion that the only ‘right time’ to have sex is right now. He thinks I’m ridiculous for wanting to wait.”  
  
“What are you waiting for?”  
  
He was genuinely curious. He looked at Blaine as if he wanted to understand. Blaine’s guard started to relax.  
  
“Someone I care about. Who cares about me. Preferably, someone I’m in a relationship with. I’m not like him, you know? The idea of letting some stranger blow me in the backroom isn’t sexy to me, it’s creepy.”  
  
And Brian should understand that. After what happened on his sixteenth birthday, Brian of all people should understand. But then, that would require Brian to acknowledge it.  
  
Blaine had been back to Babylon since then, once or twice, but that first step through the door never got any less overwhelming. The flashing lights, the pounding music, the air so heavy with hormones and sweat he could feel it on his skin, smell it, taste it. The dance floor teeming with well-groomed, barely-dressed men writhing together like it was a religious experience.  
  
Blaine got why Brian loved it so much. It was his natural habitat.  
  
Sebastian seemed to love it, too. Blaine could sense it building up in his body as they worked their way through the line and past the bouncer, the kinetic energy of his anticipation. The door closed behind them, and Sebastian closed his eyes as if in relief. Blaine squeezed his hand. Sebastian looked at him, startled. His pupils were dilated. He grinned.  
  
“There’s nothing quite like that first hit,” he said.  
  
Blaine didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to make of that.  
  
They caught up with the others and made their way to the bar. This time, Blaine was quicker on the draw.  
  
“I’ve got this one,” he told Sebastian, handing his card to the bartender. “It’s only fair.”  
  
Sebastian didn’t protest.  
  
Brian dragged Michael onto the dance floor with a sly grin that told Blaine loud and clear that he had some sort of party drug on his person. Blaine made a mental note to make sure neither of them got behind the wheel tonight. Michael was usually pretty responsible, but he didn’t make the greatest decisions while high. On drugs or on Brian, but especially on both.  
  
Emmett and Ted soon followed, leaving Blaine and Sebastian alone at the bar. Blaine noticed more than a few guys trying to catch Sebastian’s eye, but Sebastian paid them no attention. Instead, he nursed his drink and amused Blaine by making snarky commentary into his ear.  
  
“Is that guy dancing or having a psychotic break?”  
  
“I think he might be tweaking.”  
  
“Well, he’s definitely not twerking.”  
  
Blaine snorted.  
  
“So,” said Sebastian, shifting so that his body was angled toward Blaine. Blaine’s heart sped up. It could have been giddiness from the alcohol, but he was pretty sure it was the renewed intensity of Sebastian’s focus. “What’s your type?”  
  
“My type?”  
  
“You don’t have to have experience to know what you like.”  
  
Sebastian’s smirk was so knowing, it was as if he’d seen Blaine’s browser history. Which was impossible, because Blaine was fastidious about clearing it. He blushed anyway.  
  
“I don’t know. I guess, tall, muscular - but not, like - ”  
  
“Steroid city?”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“That sounds like half the guys in this place.”  
  
Including Sebastian, but Blaine didn’t say that. He was pretty sure Sebastian knew it.  
  
“Well, looks aren’t as important to me as, you know, having a connection with the guy. Not that - I mean, if Adam Levine walked up to me right now, I’d drag him to the back room by his belt loops, but who could blame me?”  
  
Sebastian’s eyes danced with amusement.  
  
“So you have a thing for tattoos.”  
  
“Who doesn’t? They’re just objectively hot.”  
  
“In that case, I think I’ve found you a dance partner.”  
  
Sebastian nodded in the direction of someone down the bar. Blaine turned and saw what could only be described as a biker past his prime, staring right at him as if he were dessert. He had a skull and crossbones tattooed on his forehead. Sebastian’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.  
  
“Gross.” Blaine raised an eyebrow, attempting and failing to convey utter lack of amusement. His lips kept twitching. “What about you? What’s your type?”  
  
Sebastian’s eyes flashed with something hot. He held Blaine’s gaze, leaning into his space. Blaine was so aware of his body, it felt as if they were touching.  
  
“I think you know the answer to that.”  
  
Blaine pulled away, gulped down the rest of his beer. He didn’t know how else to deal with that. He was about to order another beer when -  
  
“Do you want to dance?”  
  
It took Blaine a moment to realize it wasn’t Sebastian asking him.  
  
The guy was young, probably college-aged, with dark hair, light eyes, and an athletic build. His style was generic and his features blandly handsome, but his gaze was more hopeful than lascivious. He had an infinity sign tattooed on his neck, just behind his ear.  
  
“Sure!” said Blaine, before he’d even registered his decision. He looked to Sebastian. “Sorry, do you mind?”  
  
Sebastian waved him off, face set to default smirk.  
  
“Go ahead.”  
  
Blaine let the guy lead him to the middle of floor. “I’m Blaine,” he said. Or, shouted, really.  
  
The guy nodded, but his interest in that information seemed perfunctory at best.  
  
“Ryan,” he returned. He planted his hands on Blaine’s hips and started moving to the beat. He wasn’t a great dancer, but it wasn’t really as if there was room to do much more than bounce and sway anyway. Blaine put his hands on Ryan’s shoulders and closed his eyes, letting the pulse of the music drive the pumping of his blood. Ryan shifted closer. Blaine let him. He reveled in the feeling of connection that washed over him - to the music, to the body under his hands, to every person who was here, now, sharing this experience with him. It was similar to the feeling he got from performing with the Warblers. Only more visceral.  
  
Ryan tried to turn him around, hands needy at Blaine’s waist, but that wasn’t what Blaine wanted.  
  
“You have an amazing ass,” Ryan murmured in Blaine’s ear, as if that would make Blaine more inclined to let him grind against it.  
  
“Thanks,” said Blaine, but he broke away from Ryan’s hold.  
  
Ryan looked annoyed. “Whatever,” he muttered, and immediately turned to find someone more willing.  
  
Oh well. Blaine was just using him as a distraction anyway.  
  
Looking around, he realized he’d ended up near Michael and Brian. They were in their own world, dancing with their arms around each other and their foreheads pressed together. They had identical blissed-out smiles. Probably the E.  
  
It wouldn’t last long. Soon enough, Brian would find a guy that caught the attention of his libido and Michael would be alone.  
  
Blaine turned away from them. He was tired of thinking about his brother. He kept dancing. It wasn’t long before he found another willing partner, and then another, and another. He let the music fill him until he wasn’t thinking about anything at all. He closed his eyes, and he felt instead.  
  
A hand closed over his shoulder. He knew it was Sebastian before he turned around. He was surprised  - he’d figured Sebastian would have found someone to take to the back room by now. Unless he’d already been and come back out.  
  
Blaine turned, and they fell easily into rhythm together. Sebastian leaned down to talk into his ear, steadying himself with a hand on Blaine’s back.  
  
“You’ve been breaking hearts all over the dance floor,” he said. It would have sounded like an accusation if his tone hadn’t been so mild.  
  
Blaine laughed.  
  
“Hearts? I don’t know about that.”  
  
“Well, I figured you wouldn’t like it if I called you a cock tease.”  
  
Blaine could feel Sebastian’s smile against his cheek.  
  
“I’m just dancing. It’s not my fault if people make assumptions.”  
  
“You’re the hottest guy here. You got their hopes up by walking in the room.”  
  
Blaine laughed again and shook his head. He pulled back to look Sebastian in the eye.  
  
“That’s such a line.”  
  
“It’s true.”  
  
Sebastian wasn’t just telling the truth - he was nearly desperate for Blaine to believe it. It occurred to Blaine that Sebastian was far drunker than he’d thought.  
  
“Let’s dance,” he said.  
  
Sebastian didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arms around Blaine’s waist. Blaine draped his own over Sebastian’s shoulders. They swayed together, moving closer and closer until Sebastian dropped his forehead to rest against Blaine’s. Their breath mingled together, the smell of gin and beer that was still so heavy on both of their tongues. They held their bodies apart, careful not to cross the line that Blaine had drawn between them. Sebastian wanted to, Blaine could feel it, the part of him that was straining to take. He didn’t, though. He held himself in check.  
  
Blaine found himself wishing he wouldn’t.  
  
They stayed like for two songs, three, four, they all bled together, and so did their bodies. Blaine could feel Sebastian’s pulse clanging in his bones, could feel the shifting muscles beneath his shirt, could feel heaviness of his breathing and the clutching of his hands into Blaine’s flesh. He’d never felt someone’s want like this before - had never wanted someone like this before. He could have him, too, it would be more than easy.  
  
He pulled away, just far enough that he could look into Sebastian’s eyes. They were wild, his pupils blown. This meant something to him.  
  
That was enough. Blaine snaked his hand through the hair at the nape of Sebastian’s neck, went up on his toes. It didn’t bring them level, but it did encourage Sebastian’s hands to slide down to Blaine’s ass. Blaine reeled him in, closed his eyes -  
  
\- and nothing. Sebastian had pulled out of his grasp so hard he knocked into the guy dancing behind them.  
  
“What the hell, man?” the guy shouted.  
  
Blaine was kind of wondering the same thing. Sebastian looked shellshocked.  
  
“Blaine, I - ”  
  
“We’re leaving. Now.”  
  
Blaine started. He’d forgotten that other people existed, honestly. He turned to his brother and blinked, brain too sluggish to produce words.  
  
“Deb called,” said Brian, impatience covering the urgency in his voice. “Vic is in the hospital.”  
  
“Again? What happened?”  
  
“What the fuck do you think?”  
  
“Is he okay?”  
  
Brian grimaced.  
  
“They don’t know.”  
  
“I’m coming with you.”  
  
Brian nodded and turned on his heel. He cut a swath through the crowd, confident that Blaine would follow. Blaine cast a helpless look at Sebastian and hurried to catch up. He didn’t like leaving Sebastian behind, but this was his family. Sebastian would just need to understand.  
  
The chill of the night air slapped Blaine upside the head, simultaneously sobering him up and making him realize just how far from actually sober he was. Brian’s jeep was waiting for them at the curb, Ted behind the wheel. That, if nothing else, proved just how serious the situation was. Under normal circumstances, there was no way Brian would even let Ted anywhere near the front seat.  
  
Brian hopped into the passenger seat without comment.  
  
“You didn’t tell me we were bringing Stretch,” said Ted, jerking his head in Blaine’s general direction. Which didn’t make sense, obviously. He had perfectly nice legs, but no one would describe them as especially long.  
  
Behind him, a throat cleared. Blaine turned to find Sebastian, looking, for once, unsure. He seemed to have left his cocky confidence behind on the dance floor.  
  
“I’d like to come,” he said. “If you want me to.” This last was directed at Blaine.  
  
“Yeah, that’s - yes. I’d like that.”  
  
He said it before he’d consciously made the decision, his heart knowing before his head, his defenses weak enough to let it have its way.  
  
Sebastian’s smile looked almost grateful.  
  
The two of them somehow managed to squeeze into the back, Michael ending up halfway on top of both Emmett and Blaine. He didn’t seem to care, or even notice. He was on the phone with his mother, silent but for the occasional noises of sympathy and affirmation. His brow was deeply furrowed, in a way that made him look both older and younger than his 28 years. Almost 29. His birthday was only a few days after Blaine’s.  
  
The only other noise in the car was the radio playing softly in the background, the classic rock station that Brian preferred. Blaine, for once, felt no desire to sing along.  
  
Vic could be dying right now. Vic, who was kind and funny, and who’d never handled Blaine like he was made of glass. He could be dead by the time they got to the hospital.  
  
Sebastian took Blaine’s hand and gave it a squeeze. He wasn’t looking at Blaine, but they were pressed together from shoulder to thigh. Blaine could feel his pulse. Sebastian didn’t even know Vic, but he was here. Blaine let his head drop against Sebastian’s shoulder.  
  
“No, that’s - no, Ma, go ahead. We’ll find you. Love you too, Ma.”  
  
Michael ended his call. He closed his eyes, fist clenching around his phone. Blaine wished there was something he could say to make things better.  
  
“Ted, would you hurry up?” said Michael, worry making his tone sharp.  
  
Blaine understood Michael’s frustration - Ted had never broken a traffic law in his life. But still -  
  
“We’re almost there, sweetie,” said Emmett, running a comforting hand down Michael’s arm.  
  
Blaine could see it, looming over the other buildings on its block. He closed his eyes against a shudder. Intellectually, he knew that good things happened sometimes in hospitals, but that had never been his experience.  
  
Ted dropped them off at the entrance nearest to the ICU and doubled back to find a spot in the visitors’ lot. The hospital was something of a maze, but Brian, at least, seemed to know where they were going. He was at the head of the pack, with Michael. They weren’t touching, but it wasn’t because Brian didn’t want to, Blaine could tell. When it came to emotions, Brian had always been better with the physical than he had with words. Michael was the one holding them apart. Self-preservation, probably. He looked a little like a Jenga tower, about one touch away from collapsing.  
  
Debbie met them in the waiting room, practically throwing herself into Michael’s arms the second they turned the corner.  
  
“Thank god you’re here,” she said, her normally piercing voice muffled by Michael’s shoulder. She was still wearing her uniform, though her wig had been pulled slightly askew. Blaine could see a strip of gray-brown at her hairline. “All of you,” she continued, releasing her son. “Vic is fucking lucky to have so much love in his life.”  
  
She made the rounds, pulling each of them into their own bone-crushing hugs. She did a double take when she got to Sebastian.  
  
“Who the fuck are you?”  
  
“No one,” said Brian, before Blaine could make a proper introduction. “Just a friend of Blainey’s from school.”  
  
Sebastian offered his hand with a smile that more closely resemble a grimace.  
  
“Sebastian Smythe.”  
  
Debbie eyed his hand, unimpressed.  
  
“Oh, cut the shit,” she said, pulling him in for a hug no less vigorous than the ones she’d given the others.  
  
“This is Debbie Novotny,” Blaine explained as Sebastian tried to remember how to breathe. “Michael’s mom. Vic is her brother.”  
  
“And Blaine is like a son to me,” she said. “Anyone who cares about him is welcome here.”  
  
Sebastian looked distinctly uncomfortable when she finally released him. Blaine hoped he didn’t regret accompanying them, but that had to be the least of his worries.  
  
“How is he?” asked Michael, hushed.  
  
Debbie turned to him and took his face in her hands. The line of her mouth was grim.  
  
“Not too good, baby. But the doctors say he’s got a shot if he can make it through the night.”  
  
Michael nodded.  
  
“So, he’ll make it through the night.”  
  
Debbie squeezed his cheeks affectionately.  
  
“Yes, he will.”  
  
“Cancer?” muttered Sebastian, for Blaine’s ears only.  
  
“AIDS.”  
  
Sebastian went pale.  
  
Vic wasn’t allowed to have non-family visitors at the moment, so Debbie took Michael back to Vic’s room, and the rest of them arranged themselves in the waiting room to sit vigil. Blaine ended up between Brian and Sebastian. Brian draped his arm across the back of Blaine’s chair. Sebastian let his knee knock into Blaine’s. Ted, when he joined them, sat next to Emmett.  
  
The silence that had fallen amongst them felt strange after the frenzy of getting to the hospital. The remnants of Babylon were still skittering through Blaine’s blood. Beside him, Brian shifted restlessly.  
  
“Vic was the first out and proud gay man I ever met,” he said. “Besides Mikey, of course.”  
  
“He’s not dead,” snapped Ted. “There’s no need to start writing the eulogy.”  
  
“He will be. If not tonight, then soon.”  
  
Emmett narrowed his eyes.

  
“Christ, Brian, can’t you show a little sensitivity?”  
  
“It’s a fact. Vic has accepted it, and we should, too.”  
  
He wasn’t being cruel - he really believed what he was saying. He thought it was what they needed to hear. That was what made it so frustrating.  
  
“That doesn’t mean we should give up on him,” said Blaine. “Even if all he has left is time, that’s still worth fighting for.”  
  
Brian didn’t say anything. A muscle twitched in his jaw with the effort of it. It scared Blaine that he disagreed, even if he wouldn’t come right out and say it in front of Blaine.  
  
“He’s been planning a trip to Italy,” offered Emmett. “He bought the ticket and everything.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Brian. “A one-way ticket.”  
  
The hair stood up on the back of Blaine’s neck. He turned to Sebastian.  
  
“You spent time in Italy, didn’t you?”  
  
He figured they could use the distraction. Sebastian looked startled at being addressed, but he covered it well. He shrugged.  
  
“Some. My grandparents have a house in Tuscany.”  
  
Emmett perked up.  
  
“Ooh, I love _Under the Tuscan Sun_. I live for Diane Lane.”  
  
Ted raised a skeptical eyebrow.  
  
“Name one other movie she’s been in.”  
  
Emmett gasped indignantly. Probably to cover the fact that he couldn’t.  
  
“That is beside the point!”  
  
“Sebastian used to live in Paris,” said Blaine, ignoring them.  
  
“Christ,” said Brian. “Why the fuck would you move to the Pitts?”  
  
_It wasn’t my choice_ , was all Sebastian had said when Blaine had asked the same question.  
  
“I was expelled.”  
  
“ _Expelled_?”  
  
If Blaine could have, he would have gone back in time and erased at least some of the incredulity from his tone. It sounded kind of judgy. Even though, really, it wasn’t his fault Sebastian hadn’t disclosed that rather important part of the story.  
  
“What did you do?” asked Ted, fascinated. He looked about ready for a bag of popcorn.  
  
“Use the _indicatif_ when you should have used the _subjonctif_?” drawled Brian.  
  
“Let’s just say my biology teacher didn’t appreciate being propositioned.”  
  
“Jesus,” muttered Ted.  
  
Brian leaned forward in his seat, interest so sharp it looked like disbelief.  
  
“He wasn’t in the shower, was he?”  
  
“What?”  
  
Brian snickered.  
  
“Nothing. I’m starting to understand what Blainey here sees in you.”  
  
Brian raised a knowing eyebrow at Blaine, but it failed to clue him in. Something told him that was probably a good thing. He turned to Sebastian.  
  
“They expelled you for that?”  
  
Sebastian grimaced.  
  
“It was a Catholic school.”  
  
Silence crept in again. The waiting room was empty but for them. The only sound was the low murmur of the nurses’ voices in the background. Emmett crossed and uncrossed his legs. He picked up a magazine from the coffee table in front of him and started to flip through it. Blaine suspected that it was mostly to give his hands something to do.  
  
It was an old issue of _Vogue_. A really old issue. It had Marion Cotillard on the cover.  
  
“I met her once,” said Sebastian.  
  
“Who?”  
  
Sebastian nodded at the magazine. Blaine couldn’t help it, his jaw dropped.  
  
“Shut up, no you didn’t.”  
  
“Her mother is an acquaintance of my grandmother. She came to a party once.”  
  
“What was she like?” asked Emmett, magazine forgotten. “Was she fabulous?”  
  
“Her gown made more of an impression than she did, to be honest. It was Dior, very chic.”  
  
Ted yawned so widely his jaw cracked. It was contagious - Blaine yawned, too. He checked his watch. It was nearly 2:00 in the morning.  
  
“You don’t have to stay,” said Brian. “You have your audition tomorrow, Vic would understand.”  
  
“No, no, I want to. At least until - ”  
  
The doors to the main hall swung open, cutting Blaine off. It was Michael. He looked somehow both wearier and lighter than he had when he left them. Brian stood abruptly and went to him. The others followed.  
  
“He hasn’t woken up yet, but he seems pretty stable for now. The doctor told us it would be safe to go home and get some rest.”  
  
This was met with smiles and sighs of relief all around. Blaine felt as if a fist had been clenched around his heart, one that he’d only really noticed now, as it released.  
  
“I bet Deb took that well,” said Brian.  
  
Michael smiled, but it was half-hearted at best.  
  
“I think I’m gonna stay here with her tonight. I’ll call right away if anything changes.”  
  
Brian grasped his shoulders, pulled him close. Michael had to tilt his chin up to maintain eye contact. Brian’s gaze seemed to bore right into him.  
  
“You sure?”  
  
Michael nodded, a fond look in his eyes that was just for Brian.  
  
“I know how much you hate sleeping on hospital furniture.”  
  
Blaine looked away. He couldn’t look at them. The last time Brian had spent the night at the hospital - well, Blaine wouldn’t remember that, would he?  
  
Brian hugged Michael and gave him a kiss goodbye, then released him to make the rest of his farewells. Brian left him the keys to his jeep so that he and Debbie would have a way to get home in the morning. None of them complained. It was a small sacrifice to split a couple of cabs.  
  
Blaine and Sebastian silently agreed to just leave their cars on Liberty Avenue until tomorrow. Blaine, for one, was barely sharp enough to navigate through the hospital halls. The last thing he wanted was to end the night back at the hospital on a stretcher.  
  
Brian was leading the way, as he seemed to know better than the rest of them where he was going. Sebastian stuck close to Blaine’s side but refrained from actually touching. Blaine wouldn’t have minded. It would be nice to have a hand to squeeze, or to feel the weight of an arm around his shoulders. Especially if it belonged to Sebastian, who had been so unexpectedly wonderful this entire evening. Blaine wanted him close.  
  
Sebastian, it seemed, felt differently. Blaine didn’t know what had changed, but he suspected it had something to do with what had happened on the dance floor. He tried not to feel stung, once more, by the rejection.  
  
“Brian? What are you doing here?”  
  
Blaine didn’t react at first - not in a logical way, at least. He assumed he must be hallucinating, the aftermath of alcohol and adrenaline, perhaps. There was nothing else it could be. He gritted his teeth and ignored it.  
  
Brian froze.  
  
“Did you - are you hurt?” the voice continued. It - she - sounded more annoyed than concerned at the idea.  
  
They weren’t in the ICU anymore, had somehow made it into Accident and Emergency. The woman was leaning against the hallway wall, holding a cup of what had to be horrendous coffee. Her hair was short and gray, her expression severe. All of her attention was on Brian.  
  
Brian turned to her and grimaced. He seemed torn, didn’t seem to know where to angle his body. He was very determinedly not looking at Blaine. That much, Blaine could see.  
  
“Just visiting a friend.”  
  
“At this time of night?”  
  
“What are you doing here? Dad have another ‘disagreement’ down at the bar?”  
  
“Nothing like that. He got into a minor accident, driving home.”  
  
Brian laughed humorlessly.  
  
“Of course he did.”  
  
“They only brought him in as a precaution.”  
  
Blaine’s heart was hammering so hard it shook his entire body. He felt paralyzed, in a way he’d forgotten he could feel. Brian seemed to sense it. He wasn’t looking at Blaine, but every bit of his attention was focused on him. Maybe Joan could sense it, too. Her gaze found his like a magnet to metal. Her eyes widened.  
  
“Blaine?” she murmured.  
  
Brian’s reaction was immediate. He stepped between them, blocking her view. His entire body was taut with rage.  
  
“Don’t you go near him,” he growled.  
  
She drew herself up righteously, didn’t flinch away from his gaze.  
  
“He is my son.”  
  
“Not legally. Not for years.”  
  
“Do you have any idea what it feels like, to have your baby boy ripped away from you, to be told you can never see him again? Of course you don’t. You’ve never cared about anyone enough to feel that kind of pain.”  
  
“All you had to do was leave.”  
  
Joan looked away. Her hand went up to the cross hanging from her neck.  
  
“Now, back off before I call the cops,” said Brian, deadly quiet.  
  
Joan pursed her lips, demonstrating her disapproval, but she did as Brian said. She stepped back. Her eyes went to Blaine, seemed to drink him in. It felt like spiders crawling up his neck.  
  
“I knew you would grow up handsome,” she said.  
  
It was maybe the nicest thing he’d ever heard her say. He hated her for that. The heat of that hatred woke him up.  
  
“You’re a really horrible person, you know that?” he spat.  
  
She blinked, taken aback. Brian was there a second later, wrapping his arm around Blaine’s shoulders and guiding him away. Blaine understood Brian’s urgency. It wasn’t so much her he was worried about - Jack could come out of one of these rooms any moment now, ready to be discharged.  
  
The rest of their walk was a blur. He was aware of Brian’s arm against his back, and Brian’s fingers digging painfully into his shoulder. He was aware of the sick feeling in his stomach and the panic that seemed to have chosen an odd time to flare up. He tried to tune all of it out and focus on breathing.  
  
“That’s it, Blainey, you’re doing great,” Brian murmured into his ear. He kept it up, a steady stream of encouragement, until Blaine didn’t need it. Until it wasn’t work.  
  
They made it outside, and then into the back of a cab. Sebastian squeezed in on his other side. Emmett and Ted waved their farewells from the curb as the cab pulled away. Blaine found he didn’t have the energy to reciprocate. He let his head drop against the back of his seat and closed his eyes.  
  
“What a night,” he muttered.  
  
“It was something,” said Brian. He still sounded on edge. Blaine couldn’t blame him.  
  
It had been almost five years since the last time Blaine saw Joan Kinney. He’d been at the mall with Cooper, ostensibly to finish up his holiday shopping but really to shop the sale at Brooks Brothers. She’d been walking out of Williams Sonoma.  
  
She hadn’t see him, then, and Cooper hadn’t seen her. Not that he actually knew what she looked like, but still. He was too busy flirting with the clerk at the Orange Julius stand to notice the way Blaine went rigid at the sight of her. Blaine didn’t say a word.  
  
The last time she’d spoken to him was the day the social worker came to remove Blaine from her care. She was stoic, that day, the perfect picture of martyrdom. She’d been sipping on a bottomless glass of brandy all morning. She looked down her nose at him and intoned, “A mother’s love is second only to the Lord’s.”  
  
Blaine had just turned six. He didn’t care about the Lord’s love - he only wanted his mother’s.  
  
He had that, now. Joan was nothing to him, and he didn’t need her to be anything more.  
  
Blaine glanced over at Brian. He looked blank. The only sign of his emotion was the muscle twitching in his clench jaw. Blaine didn’t know how to help. He knew that, as much as Brian liked to pretend otherwise, he’d never been able to cut his parents completely out of his life. He still saw them - still sought them out. Maybe it was that Catholic guilt he’d spent his life trying to escape, or some misguided hope that they would change, Blaine didn’t know. But it messed him up every time.  
  
Blaine felt a sudden surge of gratitude. If it hadn’t been for Brian, he might never have gotten out. He caught Brian’s eye and smiled, hoping he would get the message. The tension eased in Brian’s jaw.  
  
Blaine glanced over at Sebastian on his other side. He was looking out the window, idly watching the city melt into residential streets. The light from the streetlamps highlighted the elegant arch of his neck.  
  
“Like what you see?” he murmured, slanting his eyes at Blaine with a slow, easy grin.  
  
Blaine knocked his shoulder into Sebastian’s. The effect was probably dimmed by his smile. Sebastian looked entirely too self-satisfied.  
  
It wasn’t long before the cab pulled up in front of Blaine’s house, a large colonial on a block of newer developments. Blaine reached for his wallet, but Brian stilled his hand.  
  
“Save it for sheet music.”  
  
Blaine knew better than to argue.  
  
“Thanks, Brian.”  
  
“Break a leg tomorrow.”  
  
Saying it without a heaping dose of irony seemed to pain Brian. Blaine leaned in and hugged him.  
  
“You’re a good brother, you know that?”  
  
Brian pulled away first.  
  
“I’ll call you if I hear anything,” he said.  
  
Blaine knew that was his cue to leave.  
  
Sebastian had already vacated his seat, clearing the way for Blaine to exit the cab. Blaine scooted out, readying himself for what was sure to be an awkward goodbye. He had no idea what to do with his hands. He ducked his head to escape Sebastian’s probing gaze.  
  
“So - ” he started.  
  
“Do you want some company?”  
  
It wasn’t an innuendo. That hopeful warmth was back in Sebastian’s eyes.  
  
“Yeah,” said Blaine, and he found that it was true. No matter how exhausted he was, the idea of trying to sleep right now was laughable.  
  
“Are you sure?” called Brian sharply from within the cab.  
  
“I’d rather not be alone.” Not yet. “I’ll be fine, Brian.”  
  
Brian snorted.  
  
“Have fun,” he drawled.  
  
Sebastian closed the door, and the cab pulled away. Blaine led the way up the front walk and into his dark, quiet house. His room was upstairs, down the hall from his parents’. They were heavy sleepers, but still, he didn’t dare raise his voice above a whisper. They thought he’d spent the evening at Sam’s for movie night. He wasn’t sure how to explain Sebastian, or the stale gin on his breath.  
  
Sebastian made himself at home in Blaine’s room right away. He examined Blaine’s photos, ran his fingers over Blaine’s trophies, flopped backward onto Blaine’s bed. Blaine watched him warily, but didn’t say anything to deter him.  
  
“Nice room,” said Sebastian.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Sebastian sat up, supporting his weight on his elbows.  
  
“It’s not what I pictured.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“You want to watch a movie?”  
  
It took Blaine’s sluggish brain a moment to follow the abrupt topic shift.  
  
“Yeah,” he said, quickly. He’d been afraid Sebastian would expect him to talk about what had happened at the hospital. Or at Babylon. “Yeah, sure.”  
  
Sebastian got to his feet and went, unprompted, to Blaine’s DVD shelf. His collection wasn’t huge, mostly classics and childhood favorites. Which, often, were the same thing. Blaine was about to suggest they look at his Netflix queue instead, but Sebastian had already made his selection. He showed it to Blaine, eyebrows raised in question.  
  
“ _The Philadelphia Story_?”  
  
Sebastian shrugged.  
  
“What can I say? I’ve always had a thing for Cary Grant.”  
  
They settled on Blaine’s bed, laptop creating a natural buffer between them. Blaine was glad for it. The lights were dim, and his emotional defenses had taken a beating. It would have been easy to fall into the intimacy they’d been skirting all evening. This way, it would take effort to touch.  
  
They watched in comfortable silence, broken only occasionally for idle commentary. It became clear to Blaine that Sebastian had seen this movie almost as many times as he himself had. He had a feeling that Cary Grant wasn’t the only reason.  
  
Blaine was surprised that a movie about accepting human flaws would resonate with Sebastian so strongly. He’d always come across to Blaine as someone who sought perfection. Still, when Blaine glanced over, he saw Sebastian’s lips moving - _you’ll never be a first-class human being or a first-class woman until you've learned to have some regard for human frailty_.  
  
It was endearing.  
  
The next scene, though - Blaine understood that this movie had been made in 1940, that its sociopolitical outlook was dated, but he’d always hated that scene. The father, so self-righteous, blaming his daughter’s lack of blind devotion to him for his own cheating. Blaine couldn’t help it, he scoffed.  
  
“What,” said Sebastian, amused, “you don’t appreciate a good gaslighting?”  
  
“I don’t know if I’d go _that_ far. Actually, no, you know what? Yes, I would. Thank you, that’s exactly what he’s doing.”  
  
“Well, what do you know? Ten years of therapy, and I learned something after all.”  
  
Blaine turned to him, movie forgotten. Sebastian’s gaze was still focused on the screen, but Blaine could tell his attention was not.  
  
“You’re in therapy?”  
  
The muscles in Sebastian’s jaw worked for a moment before he turned to Blaine.  
  
“Ever since my mother left. I was seven.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“Don’t be. There’s a reason my therapist taught me about gaslighting.”  
  
Blaine winced. He didn’t know what to say, only because he knew there was nothing to say. They turned back to the screen. Blaine worked up his courage.  
  
“My biological mother - you know, the woman we saw at the hospital earlier? - she was a real piece of work, too.”  
  
“Biological mother?”  
  
“I’m adopted. I lived with Joan and her husband Jack until I was six.”  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“My kindergarten teacher saw some bruises on my face and got suspicious. I denied it, of course, but Brian testified against them. He used to try and protect me, when Jack went into one of his rages. It didn’t always work.”  
  
“Fuck.”  
  
“Jack was always harder on me than he was on Brian or my sister Claire - probably because he knew I wasn’t his. He made sure I knew it, too. He always said he was beating the ‘yellow’ out of me. That’s how I figured out my biological father was probably Asian. It’s the only thing I know about him.”  
  
“Your mother just let him?”  
  
“The only part of any of us she really cared about was our immortal souls.”  
  
“Fuck her.”  
  
Blaine smiled. It was the kind of thing Brian would say. But with more venom.  
  
“Yeah. Fuck her.”  
  
It felt good.  
  
They watched the movie.  
  
“What’s your father like?” asked Blaine, because he was wondering, and because he was starting to feel like he might fall asleep if he didn’t keep talking.  
  
Sebastian considered for a moment.  
  
“He’s alright. Busy. He’s - he has no idea how to deal with me.”  
  
“Is that why you were living with your grandparents?”  
  
“Pretty much.”  
  
“How long were you there?”  
  
“Five years.”  
  
“Five _years_?”  
  
“I wouldn’t have left at all if I’d had the choice.”  
  
“See, you keep saying that, but I mean - you had to know what would happen before you did it. You said it yourself, you went to a Catholic school.”  
  
“So, what, you think I was trying to get expelled?”  
  
“I don’t know. Do you think maybe part of you was looking for an excuse to spend quality time with your dad?”  
  
Sebastian snorted.  
  
“You sound like my therapist.”  
  
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”  
  
“I didn’t proposition my biology teacher, Blaine.”  
  
Blaine scrunched his brow in confusion. Sebastian was looking at him with fire in his eyes, and none of it was making sense.  
  
“Why would you lie about that?”  
  
“I didn’t _lie_. I just didn’t clarify who did it.”  
  
“I’m confused. If you didn’t - why, exactly, were you expelled?”  
  
Sebastian looked away. His jaw clenched, his nostrils flared. This, Blaine could see, he was ashamed to say.  
  
“There was this guy. You know the type - top of the class, captain of two sports teams, president of every student organization he put his hands on.” Blaine did know - he was that guy. His heart started to sink, seeing the contempt twisting Sebastian’s mouth. “Everybody seemed to think he was the second coming of Christ. Students, teachers, everyone. I tried to beat him at his own game, tried to prove I deserved it more than he did - ”  
  
“What, popularity?”  
  
“Power,” corrected Sebastian, as if it were obvious. “Nothing worked, so I - I befriended him. I made him believe I was his friend. I found out he had this huge, pathetic crush on Monsieur Beauchamp, and I convinced him it was mutual. He was a total virgin with daddy issues, so it was pretty easy from there. I told him he should go for it, even told him what to say. He trusted me.”  
  
Sebastian went silent, but Blaine knew that wasn’t the end of the story.  
  
“What happened?” he asked quietly.  
  
“Monsieur Beauchamp reported him, and he realized I’d been playing him all along. He told the board about my involvement, and we were both expelled. My grandparents couldn’t even look at me. They put me on the first plane back to Pittsburgh. My dad made me go to public school for the rest of the year.”  
  
Sebastian sneered at the memory. It came off snobbish, but Blaine couldn’t really blame him. His own memories of public school weren’t exactly fond. Something else was bothering him, though.  
  
“That’s - you’re not - I mean, that’s not what you’ve been doing with me, is it?”  
  
Sebastian’s eyes widened.  
  
“No, no, that’s not - I would never - it’s not like that. Not with you. Not with anyone, ever again. I’ve turned over a new leaf. I swear.”  
  
He looked…afraid.  
  
“I believe you,” said Blaine, because how could he not?  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“I’ve never seen you like that, Blaine, like - like you don’t matter. I couldn’t. I could always tell, I could see it, you have this - ”  
  
\- _magnificence that comes out of your eyes, and your voice, and the way you walk. You’re lit from within, Tracy_.  
  
It was Jimmy Stewart, cutting him off. Finishing his thought. Sebastian’s eyes never left Blaine’s.  
  
_You’re the golden girl, Tracy, full of life, and warmth, and delight._  
  
“Is that really how you see me?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“I thought all you wanted from me was sex.”  
  
“It was.”  
  
“Then why didn’t you - if you’d asked me at Babylon, I would have said yes.”  
  
“You’d been drinking. And, in case you hadn’t noticed, you’re kind of a lightweight. I didn’t want you to regret it.”  
  
“How noble.”  
  
Sebastian smirked, but he reached a tentative hand between them. Blaine took it. He repositioned himself, resting his head against Sebastian’s chest and their clasped hands against his own stomach. He adjusted the computer’s angle. He could feel Sebastian’s heartbeat against his cheek.  
  
He felt safe. He knew he shouldn’t, not after what Sebastian had confessed. But he did.  
  
“I care about you,” murmured Sebastian, as if it weren’t obvious.  
  
“I know.”  
  
Before long, he was drifting off to sleep.


End file.
